


Accord

by LadyLattice



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, Eventual Romance, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 19:40:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5838331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLattice/pseuds/LadyLattice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite the despair and resentment that has lingered following Kushina's death, Fourth Hokage Namikaze Minato finds a pleasant distraction in his newly appointed Anbu guard, the prodigy Uchiha Itachi. Continuation of Avenger Hawk's fic 'Acquiescence'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intrigue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Avenger_Hawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avenger_Hawk/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Acquiescence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2389496) by [Avenger_Hawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avenger_Hawk/pseuds/Avenger_Hawk). 



> Deviation from canon. Naruto is the property of Kishimoto Masashi, to whom all rights to the franchise belong. YAOI. If you dislike or take offense to such interactions, please keep scrolling. This work is COMPLETE.
> 
> Okay guys, so here is my continuation of Avenger Hawk's Minato x Itachi fic, 'Acquiescence'. Bear with me here! My writing style is different, but the point of view is consistent with the original work (meaning the OOC-ness too), and the smut abides to the way Avenger Hawk prefers it. All of the warnings associated with the original are entirely relevant and applicable here as well. But I personally imagined Itachi to be several years older as I wrote this (I image Shisui as being Kakashi's age, and Itachi just a bit younger), so take it as you will. Anyway, enjoy and review! Reviews are writers' fodder!
> 
> Meadie out.

The Hokage struggled to determine why the return of his young Uchiha guard to his post irritated him so immensely, but eventually the blond came to the conclusion that the feeling stemmed from one of two equally unpleasant emotions: guilt or genuine concern. While neither was particularly dreadful when placed in comparison to the usual spectrum of human expression, he was displeased by the fact that they were surfacing under his current circumstances. It was inappropriate for a leader to portray weakness before his subordinates; but when feelings such as these were aroused by a subordinate, the blatant impropriety of the notion made Minato Namikaze highly uneasy.

"Itachi," the blond began, feigning composure as he addressed the slender, stoic figure standing at attention on the opposite side of his large desk fully outfitted for his duties, save for the porcelain Anbu mask that he clutched in his slender fingers. "I told you that you could have some time to recover from the Land of Rivers skirmish. I might have healed you some in the field, but that injury was significant." The youth's stoic countenance remained entirely unaltered at his words, and Minato could feel the desire to force one of the deliciously miniscule moans of pain and pleasure from between the Uchiha prodigy's lips rising in his gut. Shoving the arousal into the shadowy corners of his mind, into the pit where his own personal darkness lie, the Hokage swallowed dryly, regaining his frayed poise. "You have my permission to refrain from your duties and rest. Temporarily, of course," he added awkwardly, absently toying with a scroll on his desk like a bashful child.

"I respectfully decline, Hokage-sama," the raven-haired shinobi replied flatly, not a scrap of emotion tinting his voice. "It is the duty of a guard to protect his lord unconditionally, and it is especially ill-mannered to refrain from doing so after his master has salvaged his disposable life so graciously."

"I'm… what?" the elder shinobi stammered before quickly recollecting and repairing the shards of his professional façade.

_Shit_ , he thought bitterly, _what is this kid's deal? Usually, all I have to do to get what I want is to say it or pin him to… damn! No, Minato!_

Sighing dramatically, he removed his Hokage's hat and dropped it unceremoniously on the desk, glaring death at the ridiculous article of clothing as if it was the source of all of his misfortune, irritation, and despair. He ruffled his hair and groaned, his odd behavior causing mild, nearly imperceptible confusion to glint in the depthless black of Itachi's inky eyes. "Very well," Minato resentfully conceded, assessing the younger man with a narrow cerulean glare, "You may return to your post. Dismissed."

"Hai, Hokage-sama. Osoreirimasu."

The blond leaned back in his tufted chair and rubbed the heels of his palms into his tired eyes, grumbling with frustration and exhaustion. It'll be fine this way. We'll just pretend that everything is normal. It'll be fine. I'll be fine. Though he chanted the mantra to himself for several minutes, his mind began to wander – wandering to the very thing that had been haunting him at night and denying him peace. His loneliness was suffocating, and though it was shameful and inappropriate, there was something oddly comforting in having a slight diversion from thoughts that drew nothing but pain and churned the vile depths of his long suppressed depravity. Something to draw his mind away from Kushina; from her sacrifice, her bravery, his pathetic inability to save her life. The people of Konoha treated him as a savior, a hero of the people, the infamous Yellow Flash of the Leaf, a man without weakness or flaw. But they were all dearly mistaken. How powerful is a man who was unable to protect that which lied so close to his heart? A heart that was once unsoiled by resentment and self-pity.

It was likely horridly disrespectful of his late wife – this distraction of his – but he willed her to understand, to grant him some sort of forgiveness from where ever she lie in wait for him beyond the grave. Convincing himself that she would exonerate him gave Minato the ability to quell his resentment towards her for leaving him behind. Maybe it was all a lie, a clever genjutsu cast against his own mind, preventing him from acknowledging that this illicit relationship which he had cultivated was in fact retribution directed specifically towards Kushina. Punishment for her selfish selflessness. Either way, the Fourth Hokage would not admit to one or the other. Though he would likely be inclined to offer contrition to the woman he loved, it was doubtful that he would ever apologize to Itachi, despite his gnawing guilt. It was a guard's duty to appease his master, after all. The Uchiha prodigy's loyalty was and would remain absolute, as he had far too much to protect and far too much to lose… Sasuke.

Again his mind drifted away, like a helpless leaf in a river, unable – or perhaps disinclined – to change its own destiny or assert free will. He was caught in the rapids of his own bitterness, and a waterfall loomed around a bend in the near distance, ready to cast him with careless violence into the darkest recesses of his heart, where the respectable man that he once was would be lost forever.

_Itachi._

Thoughts of the guard's body beneath his own, compliant and cooperative, his every demand catered to with a lithe tongue and slender fingers and sweet whisperings of "Hai, Hokage-sama." Porcelain flesh that flushed deliciously with the slightest dusting of pink as he took the younger at his own remorseless discretion, the beautifully pure pallor laid in contrast to his own lightly tanned skin. Onyx hair sprawled across the rich mahogany floors of his office and lidded ebony eyes staring past him with distant softness, a well-practiced deception that served to fuel his desire exceptionally well.

Minato hummed contentedly as arousal heated his lap and his head fell back against his chair with a sigh. _This is insane_ , he scolded himself, _think of what he said about Sasuke. He… doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve to endure my selfishness just so that he can do what I was unable to. I can't drag him any further down with me. But…._

The Hokage ground his hips lightly against his open palm, shuddering pleasantly before wading into the darkness of his own thoughts, his building resentment towards his own actions causing all of his anger and bitterness to tug at him teasingly. "Dammit!" he cursed loudly, slamming his fists on his desk and resting his forehead atop them, ignoring the papers that scattered and skittered across the floor.

Naturally, Itachi came barging into the room, an action that would be unforgivably rude under any other circumstances. "Hokage-sama? Is all well?"

_This again. We've done this before_ , the elder shinobi recalled, the memory of their first physical interaction causing his annoyance and desire to surge forth more persistently.

"No! It is not!"

"Hokage… sama?"

"Itachi… come here," Minato commanded lowly, noticing as the Anbu lowered his gaze before complying obediently, taking even steps until he stood silently before his lord. The blond placed a strong hand on the back of the Uchiha's thigh, tugging him nearer and urging him to climb into his lap, knees on either side of the elder man's hips. "I said come here."

"Hai, Hokage-sama," he replied in a breathy, seductive voice, removing his mask and pressing his lips to Minato's gently. Though the Hokage pulled away to latch his teeth aggressively onto the guard's throat, Itachi never gave the slightest flinch, but the blond could feel him swallow dryly.

_Why would I even bother to notice?_ Minato questioned himself bitterly. _He's following orders, doing as I tell him exactly like we agreed. Did he think that something would be different this time? No, he's Anbu. He'd never be so presumptuous_. Curious, he moved his mouth upwards along the younger man's jugular, feeling the throbbing of Itachi's artery beneath his lips. _His pulse is pounding?_

"No matter," the blond mumbled to himself.

"Hokage-sama?"

Dragging himself back to the present with a growl, Minato sprawled the Uchiha across his desk, staring down at him with a predatory smirk. He would take exactly what he wanted just as he had before, remorselessly savoring each miniscule moan and arch of his back as he tensed in pleasure and pain. The younger man was beautiful; his face symmetrical and blessed with an earthiness that countered the slightly feminine refinement of his features, his body thin and lithe with sinewy muscle, his entire being woven from the colors of the night. It was no wonder that he was so tempting – he stood with feigned humility on the threshold of perfection. And the Hokage wanted him. Wanted to take him, to smugly gaze down with pride at the bruised and bitten figure as he lay open and willing beneath him, the ultimate exhibition of his own superiority and the product of his sadistic satisfaction.

Itachi would endure his ministrations and deceptively reciprocate his lord's desire with well-practiced effectiveness, though his pleasure was likely no more than farce. Minato knew that the young Anbu was performing exactly as he had been trained so rigorously to, just as he knew that such training did not likely require him to prepare for scenarios like this one. Situations where he would be forced to comply with the vile wishes of his own master under the threat of expulsion from his post and humiliation as the next leader of such a proud clan. Still, the Uchiha prodigy was, in the most basic terms, nothing more than a glorified assassin; and as such his skills in deception and adaptability were finely honed and flawlessly executed.

As the blond's hand clutched the hem of Itachi's shirt in preparation of tearing it mercilessly from his slender body, he felt his grasp hesitate inexplicably, his grip loosening slightly. Though Minato had convinced himself that all was well and that nothing had changed after their fairly intimate discussion after the confrontation in the Land of Rivers, something managed to still his actions; a glittering fragment of truth that he had dulled and willed to the back of his mind. Now he knew. Knew why – or rather, for whom – the Uchiha had agreed to his wished so obediently.

_Sasuke. He's trying to protect his brother at the price of his pride and body. He's doing what I was too weak to do. He's… a better man than me. Selfless._

The blond sighed and released the ebony-haired man beneath him, who merely stared at him with dark, emotionless eyes that betrayed nothing. Flustered, Minato trailed his thumb over Itachi's lips before turning away and moving to the window so as to glare at nothing in particular, rubbing his temples and ruffling his own hair. "You are dismissed."

"Hokage-sama? Have I not performed to your expectations?"

_"Performed",_ the elder shinobi thought bitterly, struggling to keep his back to the other man as he listened to him climbing from the desk with uncertainty and straightening his uniform.

"No. You performed… perfectly," he replied to Itachi's inquiry, the final word feeling awkward and strained as it hovered on his tongue.

"Lord Fourth, may I satisfy you in another way?"

"No, just go. You are dismissed."

"Hokage-sama…."

"Get out!" Minato shouted angrily as he glared over his shoulder, witnessing perhaps the first flicker of genuine emotion to cross the guard's features while in his presence – a nearly imperceptible furrowing of his brows in shock and confusion that was promptly erased.

Itachi gave a shallow bow of respect and apology before slipping silently out of the office. "Hai, Hokage-sama. Moushiwake arimasen."

The door clicked quietly closed, and the blond sighed heavily with a groan, his proud, formal posture wilting as he slumped back into his chair. Still, a small but satisfied grin tugged at his lips as he recalled the momentary surprise that flashed over the raven-haired man's features, the minor mistake delicious and tempting in its unfamiliarity.

_The porcelain doll cracked, hmm? Interesting._


	2. Acknowledgement

Hatake Kakashi was a splendid shinobi, and while his skill was exceptionally beneficial to both Anbu and Konoha as a whole, his perceptiveness could be quite irritating in his sensei's opinion. The grey-haired man's impressive attention to the minutia of human behavior made it easy for him to determine that there was some ripple in the consistency of the Hokage's typical demeanor. And Minato knew that this was likely the reason why his former student was awaiting his evening departure from the office, leaning lazily against the wall with his arms folded across his chest as he read one of his smutty novels with a bored expression.

"Sensei," he hummed, the book disappearing somewhere into his vest.

"Kakashi? I thought you were on a mission."

"Hai, I was. We just made it back."

"Did it go well? You took a few of the younger Anbu members with you this time, right?" the blond questioned, beckoning for the younger man to follow him as he walked down the hall, his Hokage's hat clutched loosely between his fingers.

Kakashi nodded, curiously assessing the elder man's expression out of the corner of his unconcealed eye. "Hai. They did very well."

"Excellent," Minato replied, allowing them to stumble into a slightly awkward silence as they stepped through the building's main doors and into the village streets. The weather was pleasant, and the citizens of Konoha were savoring the loveliness of the evening as they milled about, laughing and enjoying the company of friends and neighbors. Strolling casually with no apparent destination, the pair was greeted respectfully by each person they passed, and the blond acknowledged them all with kind words and gentle, feigned smiles. "So tell me, Kakashi. What's on your mind?"

"Nothing at all, Hokage-sama."

"Is that so? Come on, Kakashi, let's sit and talk. I'm sure you're hungry after your mission; how does barbeque sound?" Minato asked, a small but genuine smile flashing in his cerulean eyes. The younger man nodded in grateful acceptance, fully aware that the offer bordered more closely on a command than an actual question, but was pleased with the opportunity nonetheless.

"Arigatō gosaimasu. But what about Naruto?"

"No worries," the blond replied, ushering the grey-haired Anbu into a restaurant, smiling and thanking the hostess for her generous service as they slid into an isolated booth. "He's with the Nara boy, Shikaku's son. I'm just glad that he's managed to make some friends despite how obnoxious he is."

"He's a good kid, though. Reminds me of Obito."

The Hokage laughed heartily, a glimmer of his past self shining through the dark façade that he had been concealed by false happiness as of late. "Yeah, he's a screw up, exactly like Obito. But he's not as stupid as he seems. And he has so much of Kushina in him, especially her loud mouth and big heart."

Kakashi nodded sorrowfully, assessing the other man intently. "So, how is Itachi as a guard? Performing well?"

Minato tensed slightly, grateful that their waitress reappeared, giving him a valid reason to divert his gaze away from his former student's scrutinizing stare. _There's that word again,_ he thought bitterly, though his smile never waned, _"performed"._

"He's an excellent shinobi, but I wonder if his potential is being wasted by standing around and babysitting me. Perhaps I should transfer him back into your division, Kakashi – where he can truly be of use."

"Sensei, may I be frank?" the grey-haired man questioned, his gaze narrowing as the blond hummed in acknowledgement. "I think it would be best for him to remain at his current post. I think that continuing to have an Uchiha in such close contact with the Hokage would promote improved relations between the clan and Konoha as a whole. Though I'm sure such a thought has already occurred to you."

 _"Close contact" is a bit of an understatement,_ Minato mused with an odd combination of smugness and discomfort, nodding as he agreed with Kakashi's assessment. Suddenly, he felt a familiar churning in his gut, vicious arousal inspired by nothing more than the mental image of the Uchiha prodigy sprawled over his desk, lips pink and parted as he awaited his lord's orders. _Dammit, no. Not now._

"Uh, sensei? Are you alright?"

"What? Oh, yes, I'm fine," he responded, his eyes wide and panicked as if he was lost. Knitting his brows together in frustration, the Hokage excused himself and rose quickly from his seat, turning to address the Anbu captain's suspicious stare as he placed payment on the table. "I'm sorry, Kakashi. I need to go back to the office; there's something important that I forgot to do. Please, enjoy dinner on me. We'll get together soon, since I'm sure Naruto would like to see you. He really looks up to you, you know – Konoha's infamous Copy Nin," he chuckled awkwardly. "Just come by the house or something, okay?"

"Sure, Hokage-sama."

"Hokage-sama?" Minato teased as he rushed out of the restaurant, calling quick goodbyes over his shoulder and darting back to the central administrative building, careful to remain concealed from the residents of the neighborhood. It would be shameful for their noble Hokage to be seen scurrying through the streets like a criminal, flustered and winded as he struggled with the ache of arousal.

Slamming his office door, the blond leaned against the wall and slid to the floor, running his fingers aggressively through his hair and sighing, attempting to fight away the darkness that was beginning to descend on his thoughts. Warring against his own bitterness was nearly impossible. It was grasping and tugging him towards the oppressive nothingness as he was stretched thinner and thinner, his will weakening with each passing day – with each passing moment. He groaned and feebly fought against the rip current of the void which housed his depravity, a tempting depthless pit that coaxed him to it with sweet whispers of freedom from agony and want. Though he knew that he would hate himself for succumbing to the enticement, he also knew that this way would be far easier than continuing to suffer through his personal living hell. If he were to simply let go, to simply give in, everything would cease to matter as he was pulled into the black hole that had seemingly replaced his heart; a chasm filled with violence and uncertainty and the horrifying ability to shred light with its intensity. It was a vile thought, but Minato considered stooping to beg Kushina for forgiveness yet again, merely so that he could continue to transgress against her memory with his selfishness.

The Hokage bit his lip and succumbed, his pulse pounding wildly as he ceased to suppress his growing arousal, allowing his mind to wander and grinding the tautness in his hips against his open palm. Groaning quietly he shuddered at the dearly craved pleasure, the urgency of his need increasing as he imagined his muse begging beneath him, all pale skin and dark eyes and lithe muscle. That delicious voice hazed by desire and sweet agony, asking for his approval, pleading for more as he took exactly what he wanted, fingers tracing the lines of that slender body and the Anbu tattoo etched into pearlescent flesh.

Unconsciously, the blond allowed his head to fall back against the wall, the name of the object of his desire slipping from between panting lips. "Itachi."

A gentle knock on the door caused Minato to freeze, his cerulean eyes sharpening as they flew open, lust dissolving from his features as a polite, elegant voice reached his ears. "Hokage-sama? Did you call for me?"

"Itachi?"

"Hai."

 _Fantastic, of course he's here,_ Minato remarked to himself snidely, huffing and biting his cheek in attempted restraint. _The bastard's diligent; but I can't fault him for doing his job._

"Come here, Itachi."

There was a slight moment of hesitation before the office door swung open silently, a poised figure slipping inside and closing it again, the latch clicking with an eerie sense of finality. The younger man knelt respectfully before his lord, his long ebony ponytail falling gracefully over his shoulder as he lowered his head, the porcelain mask obstructing his face revealing as little as his expressions ever would. "For what am I needed, Yondaime-sama?"

The Uchiha prodigy's low, sultry voice made Minato squirm at the appealing nature of the sound, and he reached out to slowly remove the concealing garment, allowing the weasel visage to clatter unceremoniously to the floor. Itachi never raised his eyes as his master tugged his hair free from its confines, dragging his fingers gently through the silken strands that seemed entirely impervious to tangles. The blond was surprised by the serenity of his own tone as he spoke, the words not matching the urgent, violent desire throbbing throughout his being. "I need you. That is all."

 _I need to be inside you,_ he thought as he urged the younger man's lips to address the need in his lap after a brief kiss. _Yet… the last thing you need is me. Doing this to you._

Following a fleeting moment of hesitation, Minato shoved him away and onto his back, leaning over the smaller figure and ridding him of his clothes, his gaze studying the welcome sight of the body beneath him. His lips began to explore and his strong hands, calloused from years of weapons use, began to knead easy circles into the miniscule divots above the guard's slender hips. The action, coupled with a soft yet passionate kiss inspired a slight, but noticeable gasp to escape from Itachi's mouth, the sound beautiful and, for once, wholly genuine. The Hokage savored the little crack in the young Anbu's other, more permanent porcelain mask and sought to encourage the reaction again, finding that it was far more arousing than any previous whimpers of pain.

"Hokage-sama," the smaller man sighed, "How may I pleasure you?"

"Itachi, say my name. Minato. Say it."

Drawing in a shaky breath, he conceded to his lord's orders reluctantly, his voice trembling slightly as if it pained him to speak. "Hai, M – Minato."

"Again."

"Minato."

Though the darkness was beginning to claw at him more persistently, the Hokage felt some slender thread of light holding him fast to his humanity; the tether both pleasant and searing with contradiction. He was letting himself go at last, finally allowing himself to drown in selfish whims and carnal desire – but he was bound by some inexplicable restraint, refusing to concede to his long-awaited abandonment of morality. Perhaps it was the product of some emotion that he believed had long ago perished, purged wholly from his heart. Or perhaps it was Kushina, informing him that he was allotted some degree of self-regarding depravity considering the position in which she had left him upon her death, but refusing to permit him to lose himself entirely. The thought gentled his hips as he pressed himself into Itachi, savoring the nearly silent groans parading through the younger's thin lips.

"Again," the blond ordered as he began to move.

"Minato."

On the verge of discarding restraint for pleasure, he stilled, lost momentarily in contemplation. The Uchiha beneath him displayed a miniscule flicker of confusion when his master spoke in a haunting, somber voice. "Itachi. What are you thinking about? Right now."

"I will think about whatever you wish me to think, Hokage-sama."

_Dammit, just answer me! I want to get inside your head!_

"Tell me," Minato warned, thrusting roughly into the younger man, savoring the slight gasp that he conceded as his back arched up from the floor, his body pressing against the sturdy frame above him.

"Hokage-sama, my mind is clear. I will think of whatever you wish."

"Are you thinking of your brother? Of protecting your precious Sasuke? You aren't thinking of yourself, are you? Answer me, Itachi."

Obsidian eyes widened slightly, snapping free from the artificial haze of lust that the Anbu had so easily donned as he stared blankly past his lord at the ceiling, his expression betraying only the slightest tinge of concern. "Hai. I was thinking of him."

The Hokage sighed and laid his lips against the younger's throat, carefully considering his words as he continued to take him at his own discretion, his mind too occupied to mark the slender body with bites and bruises as he normally did. Nearing his peak, Minato slowed his pace, acting on the inexplicable urge to kiss the other man deeply, passionately, pressing their lips together with miniscule force. Remarkably, Itachi replied with what seemed to be a genuine response, his hands cautiously tangling in the mess of blond hair above him, willingly tying their tongues in sensual knots. The elder man ensured that the Uchiha prodigy was the first to climb to climax, seeking his shortly after and admiring the radiance of the figure sprawled openly across the office floor. Pale flesh tinted with blush from exertion, ebony hair splayed wildly yet still inexplicably free of tangles, dark eyes softened by release; that body enhanced in its splendor by the atypical lack of marring brands of possession.

 _He's beautiful,_ Minato thought contently, _but not perfect._

"Go home, Itachi. Remind your brother of how much you love him. Dismissed."

Rising from the floor and redressing himself, the guard bowed respectfully before departing. "Hai, Yondaime-sama. Good evening."

Tugging his clothes back into their rightful places, Minato laid back against the ground lazily, savoring the pleasant chill of the hardwood flooring beneath his skin, cooling his body as he slowed his breaths and his thoughts. His mind drifted to his conversation with Kakashi earlier that night, smiling slightly at his former pupil's perceptive assessment of the village's current situation regarding the Uchiha clan. It was almost as if he had been present during the meeting between himself, Shimura Danzō, and Sandaime Hokage-sama earlier that day, wherein a discussion regarding such clan relations was begun. Danzō had been advocating taking drastic measures against the Uchiha and the rumors of a possible coup d'état originating from within the clan, mostly surrounding the current clan leader, Uchiha Fugaku.

 _Itachi's father,_ Minato noted to himself, internally questioning his reason for even making such a connection, as it was irrelevant to the issue of village security.

Following extensive debate, confined largely between his elders – who had been rivals since the days of their youth when both were serving beneath Nidaime Hokage, Senju Tobirama – a conclusion was eventually reached regarding the Uchiha dilemma. Reluctantly, Minato had conceded to allowing Danzō to issue orders to Itachi and Uchiha Shisui, directing the future clan leader and his cousin to perform reconnaissance against their own relations in order to preserve peace. Later, in a private aside, Sandaime Hokage Sarutobi Hiruzen had expressed his concerns regarding his former teammate's methods of operation, indicating that Danzō should be monitored closely in the following days. The Foundation founder was well known, among those privy to such information, for his drastic and controversial actions, which often bred further unrest and suspicion about his apparent knack for scheming. Though he shared his predecessor's fears, the blond was relieved that he was not required to express his doubts to the elder man directly.

Minato could not determine why, but a sense of foreboding had been knotted somewhere in his chest all day, beneath his heart and between his lungs. Perhaps he was truly concerned for the safety of the village… or perhaps, though he detested admitting to such an idea, he was truly concerned for Itachi. Reconnaissance against your father was undoubtedly unpleasant, but the Hokage knew that the young Anbu would fulfill his mission exactly as he was ordered to do, and would perform his duties flawlessly, as per usual. Yet the knowledge that the Uchiha was held firmly beneath Shimura Danzō's thumb made Minato uneasy. There was a distinct possibility that Itachi would be commanded to take drastic action against his own people – action that would be taken without the Hokage's consent. His concern was entirely warranted, but the blond scolded himself for even considering the feelings of a single Anbu member, who essentially served as a glorified assassin and puppet, over the wellbeing of the village as a whole.

Sighing, he folded his hands behind his head and wrenched his eyes closed desperately as he spoke aloud to the silence of his office. "What do I do, Kushina?"


	3. Convolution

"Hokage-sama? Sir?"

Namikaze Minato frowned and blinked open his weary eyes, his mood fouled from being awoken following an extremely restless sleep. Groaning, he scowled up at the offending voice, his cerulean gaze watery from the violent assault of the sun as it glared through the windows, taunting him mercilessly for his exhaustion.

"Yondaime-sama? All you alright?" the speaker chimed gently, his tone low and distant.

"Itachi?" the blond mumbled bitterly, "Why are you in my house?"

"Hokage-sama, forgive me for my insolence," the Uchiha said as he knelt before his master, "but it seems that you slept in your office last night. I hope that it was not impudent of me to wake you."

Minato sat up, glancing about as if lost before allowing his stare to fall to his desk, instantly becoming mortified by the knowledge that his subordinate had found him asleep in his chair, head resting atop a stack of paperwork. "Damn," he swore, rubbing his eyes. "You may go now."

"Hai, Hokage-sama," Itachi murmured respectfully as he rose to his feet, the blond observing the Anbu suspiciously as he hesitated in his departure from the room.

"You're dismissed. Is there a problem?"

Oddly, the brisk reply that he had expected from the younger man failed to arrive for several long moments, and Minato's eyes narrowed as the Uchiha prodigy lowered his head, his porcelain mask revealing nothing. "Sir, you have ink on your face."

"Huh?"

"Ink," Itachi informed casually, surprising them both when he leaned over the desk, his thumb trailing over his master's cheek as he carved a line through the smudged text from the papers upon which the blond had laid his head as he slept. "Forgive me, Hokage-sama," the raven-haired shinobi corrected promptly as he recoiled, falling to one knee in apologetic respectfulness, "I will take my leave now."

A vicious blush rose to Minato's face after the guard had flickered away, leaving the Yondaime Hokage in solitary silence as he drug his fingers across his cheek, smearing away ebony marks with the back of his hand. Staring blankly at the inky smudged remnants that clashed harshly with his lightly tanned skin, he allowed his mind to drift into the darker locales buried among the few remaining virtues that still rested in his heart.

 _Obscurity. Replication,_ he thought as his gaze floated from the blurred blackness on his hand to the paper which had originally held the words. _Reversal. The image in a mirror is always the opposite from reality, it's only a clever deception. Like genjutsu in its simplest, most acceptable form. We all just assume it to be accurate, a depiction of the truth. But that's not quite right, is it?_

Flustered, the blond ruffled his hair, straining in his attempts to fully reconstruct the events from the night before – events that led to his sleeping on his desk and the resulting humiliation. Everything seemed blurry and equivocal, as if he had been drunk, his memory steeped in the infuriating fogginess that accompanied the over consumption of alcohol. _Damn. First was dinner with Kakashi, next coming back to Hokage Tower, then… Itachi._ Minato groaned and rubbed his eyes as he moved to rise from his chair, but his attention was consumed with the slight bump of something against his sandal, followed by the sound of ceramic rolling across a hardwood floor. _And sake after that, apparently,_ he scolded himself bitterly, glaring at the empty bottle at his feet. Stooping to collect the offending object from the floor, he felt an overwhelming dizziness that made it seem as if his thoughts were sloshing about in his head, all degrees of cohesiveness becoming elusive. The Hokage straightened himself abruptly, his palms slamming down on the desk for support.

_Yep. Definitely sake._

A slight knock on the door captured his attention, and the blond hastily shoved the bottle into a drawer, attempting to scrub the residual drunken redness from his cerulean eyes with the heels of his palms before beckoning for them to enter. "Sandaime-sama?" Minato questioned, blinking at his guest.

Sarutobi Hiruzen narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the younger man and clutched his pipe between his teeth, observing carefully for several long moments before saying anything. "Yondaime-sama. Minato. We must speak privately, clandestinely. There are several things that have come to my attention that must be addressed immediately. Concerning Shimura Danzō."

"I see," the Hokage said lowly, a stern gravity settling over his features. "Would this be regarding the Uchiha? I've been hoping to speak to you on this issue… without Danzō-sama's presence."

Dragging heavily on his pipe and releasing the fragrant smoke into the air, Hiruzen nodded solemnly in confirmation and understanding, a hum of consent rumbling deep within his chest. "We share the same fears, it seems. An Uchiha within the Foundation is harrowing enough; but when that particular shinobi is exceptionally gifted and is destined to become the next leader of a clan which is boiling with unrest and resentment, my discomfort can be naught but amplified. Danzō is likely planning to address the issue in a manner that is not concordant with our – with _your –_ beliefs, Yondaime."

"I agree…" Minato replied solemnly, seating himself once again behind his desk and weaving his fingers together in thought, brows furrowing.

"Perhaps in my naïveté I would have allowed him to influence my decisions, if this issue had arisen so violently during my tenure as Hokage. However, you are not bound to him as tightly as I was. As you know, Shimura Danzō possesses immense power through the ninja of his Foundation, and they are exceptionally loyal, talented, and dutiful shinobi. Unfortunately Itachi is a member of the Foundation's Anbu and also has these traits, despite his closeness to you as your personal guard."

"Sandaime-sama, do you believe that Danzō would manipulate Itachi into taking violent action amongst his own clan? Retrieving information for us regarding their actions is one thing, but something drastic…" the blond asserted, his voice fading into silence, the pressure of his unspoken thoughts seeming equally as deafening as the words themselves.

"No matter," Hiruzen began with a weary sigh, "If he decides to act, he will strive to conceal this from both of our eyes until it is complete. We must remain vigilant, Hokage-sama. I do not doubt Danzō's desire to act in the best interest of the village, but I doubt his methods."

"The Uchiha clan are citizens of Konoha, just as we are, and insurrection must be quelled for the sake of the village's safety. Uchiha included."

The elder man hummed thoughtfully, his pipe clutched fiercely between his teeth. "Minato…" he quietly conceded to speak at length, "Do you resent the village as the Uchiha do? Because of the fate that it imposed upon Kushina?"

Blue eyes widened slightly at the bluntness of the inquiry before diverting themselves, blinking away the heart-wrenching angst that the consideration inspired. "Sandaime-sama, I only harbor resentment for myself."

 _Liar,_ Minato thought bitterly. _You hate them as much as you do yourself. And you still have to protect them. Ironic._

"I will monitor the situation with the Uchiha carefully and will remain particularly wary of Itachi's behavior," the blond interjected as he struggled to dispel the awkwardness of the conversation and bring it to a swift conclusion. "Will you continue to monitor Danzō-sama and remain in contact with me regarding the matter?"

"Hai. Of course, Hokage-sama. I will take my leave now, good day."

"Arigatō. Be well, Sandaime."

As the office door closed quietly, Minato withered and sank deeply into his chair, ruffling his hair and briefly squeezing his eyes shut with a sigh. He stared at random objects on his desk and began to drift into the depths of his thoughts, his own personal darkness surging eagerly to the surface to meet him. Flicking the Hokage's hat perched atop a small stack of papers, he glared at the object for an instant before flinging it furiously against the wall, determined to impart his frustration on anything innocent and tangible. _Damn hat,_ he internally hissed, _I hate everything you stand for. 'I want to become Hokage!' I used to always say. Stupid dreams for stupid kids, I suppose._

The prospect of an Uchiha insurrection attempt weighed considerably less on his mind than it likely should have, but the Yondaime Hokage no longer cared. He had waded deep into the waters of his depravity, the pleasant, cool pressure of temptation rising higher until the darkness stained the fabric of his chest. A few more steps and he would drown, freeing himself from the boiling resentment and guilt in his heart.

_A few more steps… nothing more than a mercy killing._

Perhaps, he mused, allowing Danzō to manipulate Itachi and strike down the Uchiha coup was far more reasonable than Sandaime had believed; in fact, it seemed to be a glorious opportunity when considered more carefully. In that scenario, two of Minato's most troubling issues would be eliminated in a single strike, and his hands would be free of any associated responsibility. Feigned innocence was a beautiful thing. If Itachi were to dispose of the most bothersome members of his clan, not only would the coup be effectively quelled, but the prodigy would become a pariah and would be forced to leave the village as a traitor and criminal. His lovely porcelain face would be promptly pasted into the Bingo Books of every shinobi in the Land of Fire. Conveniently, the young Anbu would no longer be of the Hokage's concern. All that would be necessary on the blond's part would be indifference to the obvious – a simple omission of the truth. It was an enticing prospect, but the force of temptation that tugged at the frayed cloth of his morality was not permitted to unravel the fabric by some miniscule thread of restraint. The same curb that had been plaguing him so often as of late.

A slight knock on the office door roused the blond from his thoughts, and he was astounded to discover that the room had grown quite dim, the oppression of evening settling around him like a heavy blanket. He had remained stationary and oblivious for what seemed like ages, staring absently into the emptiness of his existence until the light of day had almost wholly waned from the sky. "Enter," Minato stated firmly, furrowing his brows as the trespasser made his entrance. "Itachi?"

"Hokage-sama," the raven-haired man said in a low voice that was nearly as dark as his inky eyes. "Forgive my intrusion."

The blond assessed him warily, suspicious as to the Uchiha's forwardness and somber expression, his confusion amplified by the observation that the younger man was neglecting to wear his Anbu mask, rather clutching it tightly in his hand. An unfortunate arousal began to churn in Minato's lap as he absorbed the sight of the other dropping respectfully to one knee, shrouded in some foreign intensity that begged to be tamed. "What is it?" Itachi suddenly rose to his feet, eyes downcast, and moved to stand before his master rigidly as he placed his porcelain concealment gently on the Hokage's cluttered desk. The elder man recoiled in shock as the guard leaned boldly to claim a kiss, free of reluctance. "What's this? What are you doing?"

"I humbly desire to please you, Yondaime-sama."

"Itachi," the blond hummed as the Anbu crouched submissively between his lord's thighs and laying soft kisses upon his knees, traveling northward. "That's enough."

"You have seemed to be very tense in recent weeks, Hokage-sama. Allow me to assist in your relaxation – I will perform as you wish."

_What the hell?! Why won't you let me try to do the right thing for once?! Kami dammit!_

The blond watched him intently for several long moments, pushing the younger man away forcefully as thin, pale lips pressed themselves against the heated tautness in his trousers. "Enough, I said!"

"Minato-sama… allow me to continue."

Narrowing his eyes, the Hokage's expression hardened dramatically, frustration roiling in his blood as prominently as the arousal that inspired it. "Stop!" he shouted, his voice little more than a feral growl, "an Anbu disobeying orders is unacceptable. This is insubordination." His chair rattled as he rose suddenly to his feet and forced the raven-haired Uchiha to do the same, the guard's thighs striking the edge of the desk and his hands falling upon a pile of paperwork as he struggled to retain his balance. Minato crashed his lips against Itachi's, aggressively driving the younger's back down against the desktop as he wrapped his slender legs snugly around his lord's waist. Provocation churned in his lap at the sight of his guard sprawled willingly, deliciously beneath him; and all previous doubt as to the Anbu's intentions seemed to be dismissed in an instant.

Each of Itachi's moans, each writhing movement and arch of his back fueled the blond's desire, urging him to take the younger man, to savor each miniscule twitch of his lithe muscles as they moved beneath ivory skin. Blunt nails drug across the wood of the desk, fingers flexing and releasing in gratifying discomfort as Minato pressed roughly into his subordinate, the Uchiha's raven locks sprawling elegantly beneath him like great spills of ink. He relished the fogginess that seeped into the depths of Itachi's obsidian eyes at his ministrations, as the guard's soft sounds of pleasure seemed to be, for once, wholly genuine.

"Minato…."

Cerulean eyes opened wide at the sound of his own name in that low, sinful voice, and the movements of the Hokage's hips ceased, his gaze falling to meet that of the man beneath him with confusion. Leaning slowly over his prey, the blond allowed the guard's strong but slim arms to wind around his shoulders, and they met for a kiss – a searing union that ached with the sweet flavor of something aside from mere lust. The two shinobi melted into each other as their movements and pleasures were re-awoken with dramatic vigor, their hands and lips and tongues wandering freely in the wildness of the moment. As they grew near their limits, Minato sank his teeth into the younger man's shoulder, the aggression of passion driving them both into the blissful agony of release with moans and sighs and stray kisses.

"Itachi," the Yondaime spoke after reflecting for several quiet moments in the darkness of the office and his own heart, his voice low and slightly uncertain. "Why did you do this? What were you trying to accomplish?"

"Hokage-sama, I merely wished to bring you pleasure. That is all," the Uchiha replied flatly, settling his porcelain mask over his face as he redressed himself.

"And what of your own pleasure?"

"Secondary."

Minato hummed and averted his gaze, turning his back to the guard as he assessed the expanse of the village as it sprawled before him through the window, the dousing of the city lights allowing the glow of a full moon to cast eerily beautiful shadows among the streets. _Eerily beautiful… shadows from moonlight. Like ghosts. Seen, but disregarded in their ambiguity… camouflaged too well in the darkness. Sounds familiar,_ he thought, glancing briefly at the man behind him. _Very familiar._

"You are dismissed for the evening, Itachi. Good night."

"Hai, Hokage-sama… goodbye."

Addressing the Anbu's departure with nothing more than a slight nod, the blond fell heavily into his chair, rubbing the sated exhaustion from his eyes and staring blankly into the darkened corners of his office. The memories from mere moments ago still churned in his thoughts, visions of the perfection of the creature that he had mercilessly taken again and again burning into his mind. It seemed that he had become less inclined to mark that body as his own as viciously as he had before, and doing so felt like a sin in hindsight; for one would never enhance the painting of a master by adding pigment of his own. Itachi was still human, and therefore would forever be denied the chance to obtain perfection – however, if any being had ever come close, it would be the onyx-eyed prodigy. Minato knew that the younger man's internal darkness ran as deep as his own, yet he held the remarkable ability to remain uncorrupted by resentment and despair, as he was propelled forward by nothing more than love for his brother. Surely temptation was a great foe of them both, but the Hokage cursed himself for lacking the strength of will to resist it as easily as his guard did; and the realization enraged him. He was supposed to be a protector, a leader, an idol for those whom lived beneath the security of the Fire Shadow, but after all of these years he no longer cared for their wellbeing. The citizens of Konoha were mere selfish rats who lived for naught but themselves, and it was due to that egoism that he had become this monster… and why Kushina was gone.

"Dammit."

His thoughts drifted again to his guard and the issue of the unrest within the Uchiha clan, but his lackadaisical musings were abruptly halted, his bright blue eyes growing wide. _What did Itachi say? 'Goodbye'? Something's amiss. Everything seems strange…._

_Wait._

_No._

_Already?_

_That's not possible. There's no way…._

_But then again…._

Minato rose quickly from his seat, the chair toppling over and crashing loudly against the hardwood floor, sending haunting echoes throughout Hokage Tower. In a panic, he collected several kunai and shuriken from a drawer within his desk before darting into the darkened streets of Konoha, rushing towards the source of his fear, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

_No. Shit. No!_


	4. Recollection

_Shit! Shit shit shit! Damn it all!_ The Yellow Flash cursed furiously to himself while he darted between the blocks and alleyways that riddled the landscape of Konoha, his namesake seeming falsified in his mind as the seconds slipped by with agonizing persistence. A slight buzz of activity churned through the static of the late evening, the mild din growing quieter and reforming its sound as he approached the village borders, sliding to a halt before a large gate branded with the Uchiha crest. Minato glared at the obstruction and struggled to catch his breath, narrowing his cerulean eyes in irritation as he contemplated his situation carefully, each passing instant allowing further doubt and fear to coil in his gut. _Why does this place have to be so damn big?! There's too much Uchiha chakra churning around in there and I'll never find— wait!_ He gasped in realization, quickly shutting his eyes and knitting his brows together in concentration. _Sage mode! I can feel him… that way!_

Springing over the barrier and racing along tiled rooftops, the blond traced the mild disturbance in the stoic chakra that he had come to know quite well, following the cues of his enhanced sensory instincts until he stood atop a large dwelling, gazing into the empty, darkened courtyard. _Uchiha Fugaku's residence, huh? Seems fitting for a clan leader_ , the Hokage remarked to himself, alighting from his perch and silently tracking the fluctuations in his target's energy to the doorway of a room within the complex. A lithe figure knelt amongst the contemplative hush of the shadows in the hall, tilting its head in vague acknowledgement of the Yondaime's presence.

"Itachi," Minato began in a whisper, as if the younger man might shatter beneath the weight of words, "What are you doing?"

The Uchiha prodigy remained still for several moments before rising to his feet, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes and promptly returning his Anbu mask to its rightful place. "Hokage-sama, I am performing as I have been instructed. For the sake of the village."

"What did Danzō order you to do? To raise a weapon to the throats of your own clan?" he scoffed bitterly, assessing the raven-haired man's apparent readiness for combat and the small arsenal that he carried, shuriken and kunai and katana abundant and well within reach. "I know you well enough to be certain that you are not acting of your own accord. And Danzō's involvement is the only explanation that seems reasonable given the current situation."

Despite the lingering silence and the concealment of Itachi's exquisitely symmetrical face beneath his expressionless weasel visage, the blond could easily determine that the porcelain doll that he had come to admire was well within the boundaries of shattering. Each accumulating fissure, no matter how minor, was beginning to expand and intensify as they collided into a mass of fractures – elegant and intricate as a spider's web, and equally as fragile. The Hokage knew that a mere breath, a single scathing word would be more than sufficient to initiate the destruction of such a priceless artifact. And that awareness tightened an anxiety in his gut that he had not experienced in quite a long time; not in training or skirmishes, nor on missions, not even on the battlefield. Not since Kushina saved his life and lost her own. That memory, surging to the front of his consciousness, pulsed wildly through his blood and caused his heart to ache with a more anguishing sting than any wound of the physical body.

 _Kushina, is that you?_ He questioned in speechless desperation, clutching his chest as his gaze confronted the obsidian-eyed shinobi before him. _Help me, Kushina. I don't want to be a failure anymore. I don't want anyone else to fall like me. Not him. Never him. Please, Kushina, tell me what to do. I'm lost._

"Minato," Itachi mumbled softly, startling the elder with the familiar use of his name, a privilege that few held. "I am performing as ordered, as I always have. As a servant of Konoha. I will not abandon my mission. You may attempt to take my life, but that is the only way by which this directive will remain unfulfilled."

"This is ridiculous. I'll rescind your orders," the blond spat as he stepped closer, pressing the Uchiha's slighter frame against the wall and weaving their hands together, pinioning them above their heads. "You are diligent, yes, but consensually harming your own kin? No matter the order, no matter how heinous the crime, _you_ are no monster, Itachi. Don't become one. You believe that you are vile, but your heart is still uncorrupted. I see you through the eyes of a true monster, and you are blinding. I can resolve this diplomatically if given a chance." Freezing momentarily, the Hokage gently drug his thumb over one of the raven's palms before tugging their hands to his lips, trailing his tongue across the mild dampness there that tasted sweetly of salt. Curious, he tossed away the young Anbu's mask, sucking in a startled breath at the sight of the numerous tear trails that had been carved into his pristinely white flesh, pooling in the deep lines beneath his eyes and tumbling down aristocratic cheekbones.

"Yondaime-sama, unhand me. My task must be completed for the benefit of the village. My resolve must not waver."

Swallowing his distaste for maneuvers that resembled Danzō's manipulative standard of operation, Minato descended into a darkness that he had come to know well, permitting himself to utilize his most potent ammunition. "But _he_ can put a ripple in your resolve, can't he? Sasuke? Your precious otouto? Isn't that why you're standing here with tears in your eyes? Are you struggling with the knowledge that the last thing he will ever see is his beloved brother dragging a kunai over his throat? How many times do you think he'll be able to sob and ask 'Why, aniki?' before he drowns in his own blood?" Itachi's gaze frosted over in horror at each of his lord's derisive words, and the blond's chest stung with sorrowful regret as he observed the younger man, watching his ivory flesh adopt a sickly pallor and feeling his body tremble in his grasp. Though it pained him to continue, the Hokage resumed his vile speech, resolving to add the guard to his list of individuals to whom he must plead for forgiveness, his name alighting just beneath those of his son and late wife. "Do you think little Sasuke will be satisfied with your response? 'I'm following orders, otouto. This is for the sake of the village.' Will that allow him to rest in peace?"

Half-hearted statements of rejection began to spill from the Anbu's lips, but they were silenced by the grating of a door, the portal sliding open to reveal a dark-haired boy with sleepiness in his depthless eyes, the limited light of the evening causing his milky skin to glisten like silver. Minato quickly concealed himself from the child's sight, watching in soundless awe as the younger wrapped his slender arms around Itachi's waist rested his cheek against his brother's slightly muscled abdominals. _Sasuke,_ the blond remarked to himself, marveling at how plainly the pair favored each other, the beauty that ran rampant in Uchiha blood residing prominently within them both. _Does he know how much Itachi has sacrificed to keep him safe? Of course not…. Itachi would never want him to know._

"Aniki? Who are you talking to?"

"There's no one here, otouto. Now go back to bed."

Brushing a mess of sleep-tousled hair from Sasuke's face, dampness threatened the corners of Itachi's eyes as he bit his lip roughly enough to draw blood; and the Hokage wanted to claim him in that instant, to savor that crimson liquid on his tongue. "Oh," the child conceded with a yawn, tightening his grip on his brother, "do you have a mission?"

"Hai, Sasuke."

"When are you leaving?"

"Very soon."

The boy pouted and nuzzled stubbornly against the elder's body, as if refusing to acknowledge Itachi's obligations to any entity aside from himself. "You said that you'd teach me tomorrow, that you'd help with my fire style and shuriken jutsu. And you always say that you'll show me how to hit the target behind the rock with a kunai, but you never do! I tried doing it, but I'm no good."

"Gomen nasai, Sasuke. Another time."

"That's what you always say…. When will I see you again?"

"I…" the Anbu began, his silky voice faltering as the child held fast to him, eyes shut in contentment and ignorant of the kunai that the elder was fishing silently from the pouch at his hip. "I don't know. But I need you to be a good boy for mother and father while I'm gone. And if you keep practicing your jutsu you'll be better than me by the next time I see you. Can you do that for me, Sasuke?"

"I'll do anything for you. I love you, aniki." Releasing a sleepy sigh rife with serenity, the raven-haired boy leaned his weight against his brother's slender frame, savoring the pleasant warmth that it held, a trait in stark disparity to the chilled appearance of his marbled flesh. "Hey nii-san, will you come lay down in bed with me for a little while before you go? Until I fall asleep? Please?"

Itachi nodded silently, straining to placate the tremor in his hands before it bled into his voice. "Hai, otouto; just for a moment. Go to bed and I will be there shortly," he conceded in an anguished whisper as he nudged the grinning child back into the room and slid the door quietly shut, dropping to his knees in the hall.

In an instant Minato was behind him, the blond's powerful hands trailing carefully down shaking arms before gingerly peeling the kunai from the younger's fiercely clenched fist, his touch swift but surprisingly gentle. "That's enough," he purred into the fragile silence, his tone deep and commanding as his lips pressed against the ivory flesh of the Uchiha's neck. Itachi scarcely replied, rigid yet compliant to his lord's demands, making no effort at rejection as the Hokage disarmed him wholly, casting each of his weapons warily aside. "I won't let you do this. You are not this kind of man. You are not so heartlessly bound to duty."

"They must die. For the village."

"No," the Yondaime scolded, his hands wandering over the Anbu's taut, trembling body, as if attempting to cast that delectable moment of weakness into memory. Such an instant of fragility would likely never again come to pass within his presence, and his critical cerulean stare observed his fissured porcelain doll possessively. Minato's calloused fingertips studied the minutia of the topography of his subordinate's musculature like braille, silently straining to coax his thoughts free from his devious desires. "Not everything is so black and white. If you truly believe that every member of your clan has earned their execution, then I will permit you to continue. But that is not the case, is it, Itachi?"

"I do not know. It is not my place to decide."

"Why did you come to me earlier?"

"I do not know."

The blond hummed in disappointment, shaking his head. "We both know that isn't quite true, don't we? This is an order: tell me why. What happened?"

The raven-haired shinobi sighed quietly, screwing his ebony eyes tightly shut. "Hokage-sama, I merely intended to bid you farewell, but succumbed to my emotions in a moment of weakness. My clan was soon to be exterminated by my hand. And my cousin Shisui had just taken his own life in service of the village. He forfeited to me his remaining Sharingan, as Danzō-sama had claimed the other."

"Uchiha Shisui… dead?"

"Hai."

Minato released the guard and settled back on his heels, his frantic mind attempting to process the information given him. _Danz_ _ō_ _despises the Uchiha, and yet he wants their power. Wants it enough to attack his own loyal subordinates. Typical. It seems that suppressing a coup wasn't his only intention._ Ruffling his hair furiously, the blond froze in his flustered actions, grasping the younger man firmly by the shoulder and hauling him to his feet, his lingering sage energy churning nervously in his gut. "Someone's coming. This chakra…" he mumbled with a shudder.

_Shit! I know this chakra… I know that I know it. It's so familiar. I feel like I'm gonna suffocate! Who the hell is it?!_

Dropping his weight against his master, the Anbu slowly filled his lungs before hissing a stern command to the man behind him. "You need to go."

"Itachi," A voice called through the darkness of the hall, the sound low and enticing, but haunting in its intensity and latent malice. "I believe I told you that I'd be collecting you soon, and that I expected your business to be concluded. Why are there so many warm bodies in this place? I'm disappointed. And to think that I even brought you a gift."

"Madara…."

 _W—what?!_ Minato swore to himself, eyes widening in shock. _M—madara?! Uchiha Madara?! There's no way! That's not possible! He… Kushina!_

"Ah, Namikaze Minato, we meet again," the figure seeping free of the glooms said casually, carelessly dropping the burden that he held in his arms to the floor with an unceremonious thud. Flinging a kunai swiftly towards the intruder, the Hokage grimaced with familiarity as the weapon passed unheeded through its target, wedging itself into the floorboards behind him firmly. "Now tell me, Itachi, have you forgone performing your duties or are you simply wasting time? We had come to an accord, I'm sure you recall." A stark beam of moonlight bathed over the man's spiral mask as he tilted his head to assess the pair before him, the shadows sinking deeply into the crevices of the concealment making him appear even more haunting. "If you still seek my assistance, then begin with that one there," he hummed sternly, gesturing beyond them to an awestruck Sasuke, who had inconveniently reappeared in the doorway. "Once there are plenty of bodies to choose from, you can have your pick. Because I believe that Shisui here is in need of a pair of eyes; the Sharingan may be lacking to his original, but he can develop them, I'm certain."

Itachi's gaze flared into crimson life, his stare flickering from the shadowy figure before him to Sasuke, eventually falling heavily upon the crumpled mass at the masked man's feet. "Shisui?" he questioned incredulously, studying the trembling body of the unconscious form on the floor, a puddle of water accumulating on the floorboards.

"Aniki? Who are they? What's happening?"

The child was swiftly silenced by a dismissive wave from the eldest Uchiha, causing the boy to shrink against the doorframe, his hand blindly groping for his brother's as the mysterious figure's voice sliced again into the hushed air. "Oh? You believed that he was dead after flinging himself into the river, Itachi? Not so. I found him – blind and beaten – and decided that he would be a fine asset, just like you. I collected him for that purpose. However, if you are not going to perform your given task and elect not to select a pair of eyes for him, he is useless to me. I will dispose of him here."

After watching in stunned silence, Minato at last jolted into action as the masked nin began to fall to one knee, fingers extended as he moved to place his hand atop Shisui's head. _Shit, no! He can destroy with a touch,_ The Yondaime reminded himself in a panic, the details of his previous encounter with this fearsome individual surging into the front of his consciousness with harrowing clarity. Flickering to the kunai he had planted prior and collecting the wounded Uchiha from the ground, nauseating rage churned in his gut as his cerulean glare narrowed with animalistic intensity, a vicious rasengan forming in his palm. _He has to materialize when he attacks._ He hissed, driving the swirling chakra towards the assailant's back and swearing under his breath as his target evaded him yet again.

"I have not forgotten, Yellow Flash of the Leaf," the veiled man informed smugly, "That was a nasty strike you made against me during our last battle. But I believe that I departed with the upper hand, did I not? Even though you managed to survive. Damn that Uzumaki woman."

Sorrowful fury bloomed unapologetically in his heart and Minato scarcely fought the temptation of the darkness of his soul, the depths of those icy, all-consuming waters appearing to be an increasingly more appealing locale in which to end his torment. A few simple steps would suffice, the immensities of his despair and resentment coaxing his humanity closer to a delectable watery grave, thick and impermeable as ink. And in that moment, no shadow had ever appeared more divine, more comforting. _A few more steps and one deep breath. That's all. I'll be free. But…. Why won't you let me go?_ He strained against the searing tether that had seemingly become tighter in recent days, cursing the blinding restraint of goodness that locked him persistently to the vague memory of the man that he used to be. _Kushina, why won't you let me go? Let me hate him. Let me hate you. Let me hate myself. I want this. I want this, dammit!_

_I WANT THIS._

His late wife's voice seemed to echo painfully in his mind, her words rich with a chiding tone that she had never been permitted to use on her son. _"What are you doing, Minato? You're not yourself, ya know? You are not acting like the man that I married, the father of our child. What happened? Come back to yourself. Naruto needs you. Kakashi needs you. The village needs you... Itachi needs you."_ The blond ground his teeth at the agony of her memory, his resentment wavering as despair clawed at his conscience. _"I'm sorry that I left you. I'm sorry, ya know? But I made my choice, and now I want you to make yours. I want you to choose to be the man that you were… the one that you still are, even though he's lost. I want you to let me go. I love you, Minato. I will always love you. Don't forget what love is."_

 _I'm sorry, Kushina,_ he mumbled to himself, expression softening. _I love you. I love you. I promise that I won't forget… but I won't dwell either. I love you. Goodbye._

Heaving a great sigh, years of the blond's burdens seemed to dissipate into the night with every scrap of air in his lungs, and his blue eyes hardened with renewed determination as he clutched Shisui's body firmly to his chest. "I will not permit this," he stated authoritatively, his gaze dancing from his masked quarry to Itachi and back. "I am Namikaze Minato, Yondaime Hokage of Konoha, and I will not tolerate an assault on those things which have been entrusted to my care. And certainly not on those things that I love. Itachi, look after your brother. It's about time that I start doing a bit of protecting of my own."


	5. Amendment

"What will you do, Hokage?" the masked man teased darkly, his concealed smirk plainly audible in his proud, earthy voice. "Now is not the time for a heroic change of heart."

"Itachi," the Yellow Flash ordered, his severe tone slicing into the rigid void left by his adversary's taunt, "protect your family. That is your only directive. Understood?"

"Hai, Yondaime-sama," the young Anbu's silken voice replied, a nearly indistinguishable tinge of relief wavering in the blunt accord. "Hai… Minato."

Smiling slightly, the blond could feel a titillating flutter in his chest between his lungs, his pulse hastening from the divine poison of anxious combativeness and vague fondness that throbbed in his veins. His cerulean stare followed the lithe guard for several additional moments, protectively holding Shisui's unconscious, trembling body more firmly against him as he willed Itachi to take Sasuke and flee – to demonstrate to the youngest Uchiha just how dearly he was adored by his brother. _Go,_ Minato thought internally, his heartbeat pounding in his throat, _prove to Sasuke that he has always been right to love you… to admire you the way he does. Protect him. Show him that you are perfect; a far finer man than this bitter old Hokage._

"Come, otouto," the elder urged gently, extending his hand and beckoning the boy to take it, "you need to go to mother and father. You will be safe there. Come now."

"A—aniki," Sasuke stammered, uncertain tears spilling from the depths of his obsidian eyes. "Would you really hurt us? Would you leave me because they told you to? I don't understand…."

A wounded expression painted itself across Itachi's vaguely feminine features, the near-perfect symmetry warped by distress as the child sidled away from him, fearful. Though before the Anbu could respond, a rich, deep, dark chuckle carved dismissively into the stillness of the night and silenced him, the sound robust with menace and foreboding. "Of course he would, boy. He's a shinobi, and a superior one at that. How many innocent lives do you think your aniki has taken? Dozens? Hundreds?"

"Madara…" Itachi warned, his Sharingan flaring bright as he narrowed his gaze viciously. "Enough."

"Stop your barking. You don't have any family left to protect; I took it upon myself to dispose of your mother and father for you. The worst is over, Itachi… save for that little one, there. Kill him and let's be on our way."

 _What?!_ The Hokage questioned to himself, his eyes widening in realization as he observed his guard's subtle expression of horror carefully, _Uchiha Fugaku and Mikoto are already dead… I was so distracted with Itachi that I didn't even notice! I was far too late anyway. Damn it! I'm sorry, Itachi… I'm so, so sorry._

"Mom? D—dad? Are… dead?" Sasuke seemed to shrink meekly into the shadows, eyes damp and hands trembling like autumn leaves, wracked with painful uncertainty and crippling fear as he gazed in terror at his brother, who stood rooted in rigid silence. "A—aniki… please, I… Aniki… I don't want to die!" he wailed, tears beginning to tumble down his silvery skin, leaving tarnishing trails of salt in their wake.

Watching in motionless contemplation, Minato could not repress the violent shudder that tore nauseatingly through his body at the sight of the child's despair. He wished to fly to the boy's side, to hold him protectively against his chest in the way that he never had with his own son, to assure him that all would be well; and the newly cauterized wound in his spirit began to peel open yet again, his inner darkness spilling forth like blood. It was a gruesome sensation following his recently procured deliverance, but this shadow felt oddly different – less woeful and selfish, the vileness of his previous want and lust conspicuously absent. Replaced instead by the desire to protect and soothe the youngest Uchiha, the blond savored the pleasant throb of warmth in his chest when his consciousness prodded him, unabated, towards an uncontested, bewildering conclusion.

For the first time since his beloved wife's death, Namikaze Minato recalled the satisfaction of being a lover, a father… of being human. Of existing free of need and egoism. Of feeling wholly prepared to sacrifice oneself for that which is deemed to be of greater importance – a largely insignificant life which held such astronomical value in one's own heart merely due to the delectable curse of affection. And it ached. Ached with the lovely rejuvenation of a freshly kindled ember, searing his soul with an agony far greater than that of his prior disdain. Yet when the blond resolved to succumb to the warmth of such overwhelming sensation, he was bound by no tether of restraint. Not as he had been when he desired, more than anything, to drown himself in the pitiable puddle residing among the darkened recesses of his heart, purely out of spite and despair. Now, the Hokage felt free, as if nudged gently towards his new reality – towards a glittering projection of his former self.

 _Thank you, Kushina. I understand now,_ he thought contently. _I guess I had to look back one last time to move forward, after all. Thank you. Give me strength._

"Sasuke," Minato cooed softly, his gaze never leaving his Anbu guard's tear-laden stare, "your brother loves you more than anything else. He won't hurt you. Will you, Itachi?"

"Don't cry, Sasuke," the raven-haired shinobi replied, a renewed fierceness glinting in his eyes, Mangekyō flaring into life, born from the agony of his own betrayal. "Your big brother is here to protect you, no matter what happens."

"Enough rambling," came the masked foe's brash interruption, his words slicing into the slender space between their conversations as he moved swiftly to land a blow against the elder of the two brothers. "If you will not perform as instructed, then you no longer serve any purpose."

 _Shit!_ The blond swore silently as he observed the formidable opponent's intention to strike, though unable to abandon Shisui's essentially defenseless form, _I'm sure Itachi has already figured this bastard out... but still… he can't fight and defend Sasuke at the same time!_

Seemingly in an instant, the guard's form scattered into the visages of dozens of crows and littered the courtyard with a flurry of inky black feathers, as dark and elegant as the man who bid them to appear. The Yondaime's oceanic eyes widened for a moment at the haunting beauty of the scene, each plume drifting calmly to the ground like snowflakes in negative, their easiness providing an alluring discordance to the urgency in the atmosphere. He was jolted from the moment of awe as Itachi appeared beside him toting Sasuke, and Minato felt an overwhelming sense of pity for the horrified child, who remained unsure of to whom he should cling for comfort. An aroused chill ripped viciously through the blond's taut body as the guard leaned close, lips grazing the elder's throat as he whispered to his master in a stern, sultry tone.

"Please keep them safe, Minato. His presence here is my fault, and I will address it. I must take responsibility for my actions. Go, please."

With a reluctant nod, the Hokage collected Shisui's frigid, trembling body and took the youngest Uchiha firmly by the hand, turning his back to the Anbu and bolting through the compound in retreat. He silently pleaded for Sasuke's silence as the child wept and cried out for his brother, finally stopping a sufficient distance from the residence and urgently pouring his own chakra into the Shisui's ailing form, willing his wounds to heal. As the blond soothed his youngest charge, encouraging the onyx-eyed boy and offering him comforting reminders of Itachi's prowess as a shinobi, his thoughts began to wander into darker locales.

 _I've abandoned him, too_ , he missed. _Itachi may be strong, but Madara… Madara is legendary. I don't know how he's here – kami, I don't even know how he's alive – and he may be lacking a significant portion of his strength, but he's still Uchiha Madara. The only man to ever rival the ability of the Shodai Hokage, Senju Hashirama. The man who summoned and manipulated the kyuubi. The man who decimated Konoha in a single night. The same man who stole Kushina's life and nearly stole my own._

Minato groaned and ruffled his golden hair, sickening nostalgia tearing at his chest and roiling in his gut as he considered what he had done: leaving his subordinate behind and permitting him to atone for a sin that he did not commit, a sin that the Hokage had forced upon him through his own indecision and selfishness. Despite all he had experienced at the hands of his wife's memory and the young Anbu guard, despite having conquered the shadowy allure of his own inner darkness and depravity, nothing at all had changed, it seemed. It was a foul sensation – the vivid ache of disappointment – that the blond dearly wished to rid himself of, and he yearned for the mysterious remedy as if he was stranded in a desert with no water. He wanted it, _needed_ it to survive. The solution to his illness of the soul was, in that moment, all he desired. It was the only sustenance he would require to lurch into action, to again become the man whom he used to be. And in a moment of blinding clarity, the Yondaime concluded that the only element absent from the equation to attainment was action itself.

_No more pity. No more 'what ifs'. All I have to do is move – just like those last few steps from before. But it'll be different this time. I won't drown… I'll be saved._

Renewed determination seared his spirit like molten iron, hardening his resolve and effectively cauterizing his remaining wounds of the past, shocking his former self back to life. It was a liberating feeling, as if a great weight had been lifted from his back, and for the first time in years, Namikaze Minato felt as if he possessed the strength to move, to take action, to seek what should be sought… to love.

"Sasuke," he said suddenly, startling the child and prompting fresh tears to tumble down his cheeks, "don't be afraid. Take this." The raven-haired boy timidly extended his hand, eyes widening when the blond shinobi carefully deposited an oddly-shaped kunai in his small, open palm. "Hold onto this tightly," the Yellow Flash gently advised, curling the young Uchiha's fingers around the weapon's handle, "The seal on the blade helps my teleportation jutsu, so that if I activate it, I will return directly to your side. Do you understand?"

Nodding silently, Sasuke scrubbed the tears from his eyes and clutched tightly to his cousin, Shisui's weakened breaths becoming slightly more regular courtesy of Minato's hastily performed medical ninjutsu. The boy forced a meager smile when the elder shinobi patted his head gingerly, praising him for his braveness. "You're very smart, just like your brother. Don't move from this spot, but if you must, keep that kunai with you. I'll come back with Itachi, I promise. Everything will be alright."

The child nodded again in accord as the blond turned to depart, but his exit was stalled by the emergence of a small, timid voice over the sounds of the night. "Hokage-sama," Sasuke asserted quietly, fighting to control the trembling of his lip, "thank you."

"Hai," Minato responded briefly before flickering into the shadows, his speed seeming to lack as he tore through the compound, anxious to return to Itachi's side. The iciness of the breeze that struck his cheeks sent shivers through his body, worsening the nervous tension that threatened to consume his every aching muscle. He could sense the onyx-eyed guard's chakra wavering precariously and strained to hasten his pace, the nauseating knot of fear in his gut pulling itself unbearably and irreversibly taut. As the Yondaime skittered into the courtyard that he had just recently abandoned, his cerulean eyes widened in uncertain anxiety when they fell upon the scene before him.

His raven-haired Anbu stood, weakened, in a defensive stance, facing down his formidable masked opponent as he struggled to regain his breath and wiped away the streaks of blood that tumbled from his right eye, like red silken ribbons against his immaculately pale skin. At length, he faked a genjutsu before weaving the signs for a flawlessly executed flame release, but coughed and stumbled when the assault was easily evaded by the enigmatic man with the concealed face. Yet just before permitting Itachi's attack to pass through him as if he was smoke, he summoned several kunai from what seemed to be thin air, sending them hurdling, unseen, towards the younger Uchiha.

 _Shit! Itachi's struggling, I don't think he can see those kunai!_ Minato cursed to himself, mindlessly springing into action and throwing himself in front of his guard, wincing with a hiss as the knives buried themselves deeply into his back.

Itachi sucked in a startled gasp when his master fell against his chest heavily, mind reeling with confusion and concern as he held the elder man to him tightly, summoning forth his remaining chakra before redirecting it towards his opponent.

"Amaterasu!"

Violent obsidian flames promptly consumed the right side of the masked man's form, who swore and grumbled his irritation. "This isn't over," he warned darkly, his body beginning to disintegrate as it was drawn into his mask like water in a drain, "my retreat is temporary, Itachi."

Once his foe had vanished, the Anbu staggered and dropped to his knees, panic consuming his thoughts as he clutched to the ailing blond firmly, willing him to respond and calling to him in futility. "Hokage-sama! Hokage-sama, are you alright?! Minato?!"


	6. Accord

"For a loyal subordinate, you can be awfully stubborn," Minato hummed quietly to himself, gently combing his fingers through the mess of silky ivory hair sprawled over the crisp linen of his hospital bed. "Itachi…. Wake up, Itachi."

The Anbu stirred slightly with a tired sigh, rapidly sitting up in alarm as his Sharingan flared to life. "Hokage-sama, my deepest apologies," he replied rigidly.

Hushing the Uchiha, the blond shook his head. "It's fine. Aren't you supposed to be resting? Where is Sasuke?"

"I am rested enough, sir; my eyes have sufficiently recovered for me to return to duty. Sasuke and Naruto left a short while ago with Kakashi-san, he was taking them to get a proper meal in hopes that you could recuperate without their bickering. They have been scolded already, and I apologize if my otouto has disturbed you in any way."

A slight chuckle tumbled from Minato's lips as he rubbed his cerulean eyes with the heels of his palms, groaning slightly at the mild ache that still consumed his body. "Not at all. Plus, I'm sure all of their nonsense is Naruto's fault anyway; he can be troublesome and is always jealous of Sasuke, since he is exceptionally talented like his aniki," the Yondaime added with a grin, though an eerie somberness soon occupied his features. "Is he doing alright?"

"Hai," Itachi replied, a subtle frown tugging at his brows, "It is difficult for him, but he is coping with the deaths of our mother and father well in his own way. He… he does not resent me, it seems."

"Of course he doesn't, he loves you," the blond assured with a gentle smile. Despite the younger man's pristine porcelain façade, the faultless mask that he had been rigorously trained to don like a second skin, Minato had grown accustomed enough to the Anbu to see through his noble deceit as if it were as transparent as ice. Now, darkness resided in Itachi's onyx eyes, deep and wholesome with guilt and sorrow, and the sight pained the Hokage more than any of his bodily wounds. Desperate to alleviate the growing ache within them both, he awkwardly switched topics with a gawky shrug. "Shisui is doing well?"

_Seriously?! I shrugged?! That seems so… dismissive. Dammit! I let his parents die, for kami's sake! Shit…._

"Hai, considering the circumstances. Though he has not been permitted to test his sight as of yet, he is conscious."

"Test his sight? His vision was saved?" Minato asked, astounded, carefully studying his subordinate in the limited moonlight that filtered through the mildly warped windows. The Uchiha truly was woven from the colors of the night, it seemed, and such ethereal elegance never failed to draw the Hokage's cerulean scrutiny.

 _Flawless,_ The Yondaime thought absently to himself.

"Hai. I gave him my father's eyes."

_No… why?_

"Hokage-sama? Should I take my leave? You look ill."

"No! Um, no… I'm fine," the blond corrected, softening his startled gaze. "Itachi, why?"

"Fugaku was already dead and Shisui was alive, but blinded. It was logical."

 _Logical, huh? Danz_ _ō_ _trained you well._ Dragging his fingers through his hair, the Yellow Flash sighed mournfully, "How long have I been asleep?"

"Three days," Itachi informed clinically, his expression betraying nothing, "medical ninjutsu is not your forte it seems, and in addition to your injuries it exhausted you quite completely. But… thank you. For salvaging Shisui's life, and for protecting Sasuke; if I had lost them, I would have nothing. Thank you, Minato."

A slight tinge of pink painted itself over the elder man's features as he sputtered a bitter retort, brows weaving together in undeniable frustration. "I'm not that feeble! I've been exhausted recently, I haven't been sleeping!"

"Madara's kunai was poisoned, Yondaime-sama."

"Oh, well of course." _Bastard, why didn't you say that in the first place?! Thanks for nearly stomping on my pride! Damn you!_

"Sir," the Uchiha prodigy began weakly, his voice fizzling into nothing like a weakened ember doused by rain. "I am glad that you are alright. I was… afraid."

The blond flashed a kind smile, fondness fluttering in his chest at the younger man's confession. "So was I."

"Pardon?"

"I was afraid for the first time in a very long time," he soothed, reaching to shoo several sleep-disheveled strands of raven hair from Itachi's brow before permitting his fingers to trace the Anbu's regal cheekbones and the earthy troughs beneath his eyes. A foreign brand of familiarity knotted in Minato's gut, restless and uncomfortable yet sickeningly pleasant like lying in the sun in summer – much like the way each breeze and cloud overhead makes the light fickle, and the radiant warmth of the rays eases the discomforting chill with excessive heat. Sighing, the elder dismissed the Uchiha's mild confusion with a gentle grin. "I was afraid because I suddenly cared again, and it scared the hell out of me. I had been indifferent to everything for so long, that instantly becoming worried about the village and the results of my actions was overwhelming. Leaving you behind to face Madara on your own... I swore that I wouldn't abandon anyone anymore, but you asked me to. I know that you're strong, Itachi, but I thought you were going to die; just look at everything that happened the last time he was here…. The village was nearly destroyed, the kyuubi was released, my wife sacrificed herself and my son was forced to become the kyuubi's jinchuuriki. If something like that were to happen again, I don't know what I'd do. If you had been taken away from me too…."

 _What am I saying?! This is ridiculous!_ The blond swore to himself, cautiously studying his guard's unreadable expression as unprompted anxiety pulsed in his veins. _Why am I so nervous?! It's okay to be upset about nearly losing a subordinate, right?!_

"Minato," Itachi asserted quietly as if attempting to refrain from startling his master, who promptly recoiled, a blush dusting over his lightly tanned cheeks and the bridge of his nose. "May I kiss you?" he queried cautiously, a pink flush of his own rising against his ivory skin and painting it a delicate shade of rose, like tin slip on porcelain.

Nodding, the Hokage met Itachi's lips carefully, cautiously, as if fearful that a mere touch would be enough to shatter the beauty of the being whom he had viciously claimed so many times before. He savored the union of their tongues and the younger man's mild flavor, his fingertips soaking in the deceptive warmth that seeped through each unhidden patch of the Anbu's marble skin. There was longing in the kiss, and their silence spoke more than any verbal fracture in the silence could; easily expressing thoughts and emotions that their hearts wholesomely felt but their minds had yet to comprehend. Minato tugged Itachi's slighter frame atop him carefully, pressing his lips against the Uchiha's temple and knotting his calloused fingers possessively into the mess of unbound raven hair at his nape. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," the blond sighed into the hush, frowning as the onyx-eyed man's body tensed in his arms. "Don't argue… let me apologize. Itachi, I'm sorry for everything that I've done to you; I'm sorry for all of the threats and humiliation and pain. I'm sorry for what I said to you about Sasuke… he loves you and, no matter what you think, you deserve to be loved. And I'm sorry that I can't give that to you… though it's not as if you'd want love from someone like me."

"Minato…."

"I relieve you of your duties as my guard, and will approve whatever position you decide to take. The police force, a standard jounin, even leaving the life of a shinobi behind to raise your brother. Whatever will make you happy, I will accept," he asserted, stealing away another tender kiss.

"Please do not give me any special treatment on account of recent events. I want to keep my post."

The blond sucked in a startled breath, eyes widening with pleasant surprise as he claimed a heated kiss, sinking his teeth possessively into the younger man's lip with a shuddering sigh. "Are you certain?" he asked, trailing his tongue over the slight wound.

"Yes. I want to stay with you."

"Itachi…" Minato whined, lips merging with the other's as if sealing a pact.

"Sensei, you're awake?" Kakashi's normally stoic voice sliced into the slender space between conversations from where he stood in the doorway, intonation warping his words and displaying his confusion. "Sumimasen, you are obviously busy."

"Ah, Kakashi, it's alright," the Yondaime soothed, releasing Itachi and awkwardly waving his former student inside the darkened room. "Arigatō for taking Naruto and Sasuke out. Where are they now?"

_Dammit! Why did it have to be Kakashi?! Add one more person to the list of people who no longer respect me…. So awkward._

Reluctantly seating himself of the empty bed beside the Hokage's, the jounin's unconcealed eye assessed the pair warily before speaking. "They're with Kurenai and Asuma for now, at least while I was coming here to check on you and the other Uchiha. But since you are apparently well, I suppose I'll retrieve them and return home."

"Itachi," Minato queried suddenly, "you and Sasuke aren't currently living in your parents' house, are you?"

"No, sir. Sasuke and Naruto-kun have been sleeping here in the hospital every night, waiting for you and Shisui to regain consciousness. And Kakashi-san, thank you for looking after my little brother; I hope he has not been too troublesome."

Shaking his head with a sigh, Kakashi addressed the younger Anbu and rose to his feet, rolling his tired shoulders before slumping into his usual dejected posture. "Not at all. I'll be going now, sensei. I'll bring the boys back here before retiring for the night. Is that acceptable?"

"No. I'm declaring myself well enough to go home. Itachi, I'd like to extend an invitation to you and your brother to stay with Naruto and myself for the time being. We have a spare room and I doubt that you want to spend another night in the hospital."

"Hokage-sama…."

"Kakashi, would you just take them back to my house? Itachi and I will be along soon."

"Hai, sensei."

"Arigatō," Minato thanked with a smile when the grey-haired man flickered away, hastily tossing back the light linen sheets and wincing as his bare feet struck the iciness of the tile floor. Cerulean eyes studied Itachi's downcast stare with interest for several long moments, eventually resting a powerful, calloused hand on the younger's slender shoulder. "Let's go home. You can't expect me to fumble around weak and injured without my guard, can you?"

"Certainly not," the Anbu replied. A miniscule, wry grin tugged at the corners of his thin lips as he assisted his lord in rising from his bed, Minato's strong arms draping themselves over his shoulders in a farcical display of helplessness.

"Thank you, Itachi."

{{{}}}

"Well, so much for that," the blond huffed from the doorway to his bedroom, ruffling his hair with a weak smile as he stared into the darkened space, where two childish figures were curled sleepily in the center of his large mattress. Silently, the Hokage moved to the edge of the bed, sitting down gently and tugging back the blankets to reveal the boys who had claimed his room for their own, their small fingers entwined as they slept. "Naruto," he purred softly, brushing the mess of blond fringe from the child's face and dragging his thumb across the whisker marks marring his son's round cheeks, "I'm home."

"Dad?" Naruto queried drowsily, bright blue eyes blinking open in the dimmed light. "Dad," he repeated with conviction and a smile, coiling his arms around his father's shoulders and climbing clumsily into the Hokage's lap, "I missed you. Hey, why are you crying?"

Minato buried his face into the boy's neck and held him close, a peculiar blending of remorse and relief flooding through his veins, further dousing the anxious ache in his chest with each tear that fell. "I missed you too, and I'm so sorry that I left you for so long. I love you."

"Me too, dattebayo."

"Itachi-nii?" another sleepy voice croaked from amongst the tangled sheets, a slight, pale form wiggling free and addressing the slender figure perched on the opposite side of the bed. A mild, content grin tinted the Yondaime's expression at the sight, and once again he marveled at how plainly the brothers favored each other, both cursing and awing at the potency of the Uchiha beauty within them both.

"Hai, Sasuke. I'm home," the Anbu replied stoically, his gaze flicking to meet his master's for an instant before falling again to the child snuggling into his lap. "Did you behave for Kakashi-san while I was gone?"

Frowning slightly at Naruto and meeting a childish glare, Sasuke huffed and turned back to his brother, closing his small arms more forcefully around his waist. "I tried to, but he kept getting me in trouble," the child pouted, taking a nostalgic breath and savoring the gentleness of Itachi's delicate scent. "Aniki, do you have any missions soon?"

"No, otouto. I'll be able to stay in the village for a while. I must stay by Hokage-sama's side, remember?"

"And Itachi-san and Sasuke will be staying with us for a while, Naruto," Minato interjected gently, "so I want you to try to get along, okay?"

"Fine," the blond boy conceded dejectedly, tossing a poorly concealed, yet wholly genuine smile to the younger Uchiha, who wryly returned the gesture and nestled more firmly into his brother's arms.

 _Naruto really is your son, Kushina,_ the Yondaime reminisced with a solemn warmth pulsing in his chest, the distant recollection of the joy of being a father bathing his heart in mildly sorrowful adoration. _He's loud and a bit annoying, and can't hide his emotions worth a damn. But he's strong and brave and persistent, just like you. He'll give anybody a chance, and doesn't want to see anyone suffer. It's still too early for him to realize how much of a gift that truly is, and it will be a long time before he realizes that this gift came from you. He's exactly like you hoped he would be… exactly like Obito. Obito was always your favorite, after all._

"Nii-san," Sasuke piped between yawns, his bright onyx eyes growing weary with exhaustion, "you said you'd lay down with me to sleep the other night, but you never did. Please don't say 'Maybe next time', not tonight. Please, aniki."

"May I, Yondaime-sama?" the elder Uchiha questioned his master, receiving a smug nod in accord. Itachi sighed and thumped his brother's brow, rising from his seat as he carefully removed his arm guards and gear, setting them all in a neat pile at the foot of the bed before stripping free of his shirt. "Only until you fall asleep, otouto. And no trying to stay awake."

"Hai," the boy sang, burrowing into the blankets and curling into the slight indentation caused by Itachi's taut body settling into the mattress. Minato watched with distant fondness as the pair nuzzled into each other's warmth, the younger brother's slender fingers absently tracing the long, ragged scar carved into the Anbu's chest – his sole souvenir from the Land of Rivers skirmish. It felt like ages ago, as if the rising and falling of the sun each day signaled the passing of years or decades, every instant in the Hokage's existence seeming unbearably long and leaving him scraped thin and exhausted.

"Dad?" the eldest man's son asked sleepily, his voice nearly drowned into silence by his own weary yawn.

"What is it, Naruto?"

"Will you stay too? Like Itachi-san did for Sasuke?"

"Yeah, but just until you fall asleep; Itachi-san's rules go for you as well," Minato agreed, sinking into the sheets and absorbing the gentle heat radiating from his child's small body. "Naruto, I want you to listen to Itachi if he tells you to do something… he's a very smart man. Much smarter and kinder than I am. You can trust him if anything ever happens to me, just like you can trust Kakashi and Asuma and Gai and Sandaime-sama."

"Why would I ever trust perverts like Kakashi-san or Sarutobi-ojiisan?! They're both gross old guys!"

"Where did you learn to say things like that? And are you calling me old?" the Hokage chuckled, ruffling the boy's hair teasingly before pulling him firmly to his chest.

"Hey dad?" the boy asked timidly, squirming free of his father's clutches and staring at him with inquisitive, round blue eyes when he received a low hum in response. "Are you leaving again soon?"

Cracking open a single cerulean eye, Minato stared at the child with confusion in his expression. "Leaving?"

"Well, sort of. Not really. I mean, you were here, but you weren't. It was like… you didn't see me or something. I want you to stay, dattebayo!"

Thankful for the dimness of the room, the Yondaime closed the little blond in his arms as tears threatened to tumble down his cheeks, a startling ache throbbing in his chest, surging from his heart to weave painfully between his ribs. It seemed, in that moment, that the pain would cease if he were to absorb his son into his body and never let go, to hold fast to him forever in repentance for his prior sins. But still, his little remaining darkness coyly reminded him that no amount of atonement could reverse the wounds already inflicted by his indifference; yet still, his newly recovered goodness countered, he could soothe them while they healed, like ice to a burn. "I'm never leaving you again, Naruto. I'm sorry. I love you."

"Uh huh," he replied sleepily, snuggling into his father's embrace with a contented sigh, his breaths finally stumbling into restful monotony. After several pleasant moments of silence, Minato brushed his lips over Naruto's brow with an easy huff, smiling quietly to himself and speaking aloud to the darkness.

"Itachi?"

"Hai, Hokage-sama?"

"I meant everything I said, honestly. I know you heard it all."

"Hai," the Uchiha's silky voice echoed reluctantly into the empty darkness of the space.

"Is Sasuke asleep?"

"Hai."

The blond hummed in understanding, carefully maneuvering himself out from beneath his sleeping son and moving to the door, waving to the Anbu to follow. "Come, I'm sure you're hungry and could use some tea. Hopefully we have something to eat around here."

"Sir," Itachi began as soon as he had silently shut the door behind them, the knob twisting into its rightful place with not more than an inaudible click, "thank you for your hospitality. Not to worry, Sasuke and I will return to our own residence at first light."

"Certainly not," Minato purred as he wove his fingers between his guard's and pressed the younger man's naked back firmly against the bedroom door. The Anbu's tempting warmth clawed at his conscience, urging him to take it as his own; not so in a malicious or greedy way as before, but rather in an attempt to absorb the prodigy into himself, to protect the porcelain doll from the fury of the world. _His_ porcelain doll. While the Yondaime knew that Itachi was strong – in far more ways than he, himself, was – something about that slight frame and ivory skin, about the vacant sadness that resided within those obsidian eyes, made him seem fragile. As absurd as the notion sounded when conceded to the air or any form of rational thought, within the blond's mind, it seemed perfectly agreeable. "You both can stay here for as long as you wish. I won't force you to trap yourself in that house brimming with memories until you feel that you are ready. Sasuke can't go back to that place… not yet."

"Perhaps, but we have nowhere else to go," Itachi complained, expressionless, exposing is throat to his master as tender lips ghosted over his skin.

"I told you, I want you to stay here. I think that Naruto is good company for Sasuke and that Sasuke is good company for Naruto. Stay," Minato cooed, claiming a gentle kiss and dragging his tongue gently over the Anbu's lips, coaxing them to accept him. "Stay, please."

"Hai," the raven-haired man sighed as his arms wound timidly around the blond's broad, muscular shoulders and deepening the connection. The warmth in their chests seemed to bind them in the silence of the space, saying everything while saying nothing at all, and Itachi buried his face into the elder's neck. "Hai, Minato."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a sequel to 'Accord', entitled 'Amity', but it is still a work in progress. I'll try to get it up here soon, but in the meantime, it is on FanFiction.


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